4 Wings Angel Novels & Stories

A smooth rich voice cut through the silence. “Do you truly not know who he is? Or are you just choosing to be willfully ignorant?” I looked up, and a few feet above us an angel hovered. Not a Nephilim, or a half-breed; but a full blooded angel. No wonder they were scared, Nephilim were strong but they were nothing against an original. His deep purple wings were spread wide, slowly beating the air with fluid motions. His hair, the color of midnight, hung in a thick fall around his shoulders. Cheekbones so sharp they could cut glass, with lips twisted up into a sneer he was imposing; power radiating off of him in waves. One eyebrow arched when he didn’t receive an answer and instead the Nephil

Cameras everywhere taking shots & recordings, she then listened to some eye witnesses TVC “It was unbelievable, I saw it myself five angels fighting with another Angel but he has no wings, I am sure he was an Angel because no man can fight like that and attack like that, they were so strong. The five angels had very huge wings but the other person they fought with had no wing, he was even dressed like us but they fought & destroyed the roads. For a moment I thought I was seeing things but there were many others who were seeing same thing. If you had seen the wings of those Angels you would be shocked”

I think his name was Theo or something. His hair was wet and he only had a towel wrapped lose on his lower area. He looked very hot and angry. And oh he had some nice abs too. Wait is that some eight packs I see? Holy cow! He has eight packs and some ripped muscles too. As much as I wanted to look away, the drops of water on his chest trailing down to his v-line was calling on to me. Literally.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔 Aᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's Nᴏᴛᴇ For everything in this journey of life we are on, there is a right wing and a left wing: for the wing of love there is anger; for the wing of destiny there is fear; for the wing of pain there is healing; for the wing of hurt there is forgiveness; for the wing of pride there is humility; for the wing of giving there is taking; for the wing of tears there is joy; for the wing of rejection there is acceptance; for the wing of judgment there is grace; for the wing of honor there is shame; for the wing of letting go there is the wing of keeping.

Specifically, my hero from this afternoon. The cliff face towers high on the left of the page, the perspective exactly as if I were falling once more. Then I draw Malachi, his face set in steely determination to save me, his arms outstretched to catch me. His body is streamlined like a swift, swooping to reach me quickly. And spreading from his back are the transparent and silvery wings that gave him perfect control over his descent. He didn't just fall towards me. He flew towards me. An angel with a sole purpose to rescue me. My soulmate who would always protect me.

I am the room. I catch flashes of what I look like now through some of the many eyes that make up my new form: Four enormous, interconnected wheels. Four massive wings. Every surface covered in unblinking, glowing eyes—each one watching, judging, balancing. I'm not an archangel. The angels lied. And somehow, that’s allowed. Because it was "God’s will." No. I’m not an archangel. I’m a Throne. There are three celestial orders: The Lowest (angels and archangels)

He won’t let him kill his mate. Sabrina and the others tried to help Azrael, but they all flew away when Lucian released dark magic to attack them all in one swift movement. Only Azrael didn’t fly away because he used his angel power to dodge Lucian’s attack. He howled and cried out of pain on his back when suddenly something grew on his back. He roared and a pair of white wings appeared on his back. It’s his angel wings. His eyes glowed with flecks of gold and his aura changed. He roared and attacked Lucian again.

body so that you can activate your angelic power. Look back. ”Amon's voice echoed in Godric's head. Godric's gaze went backwards and he discovered wings on his back too! "I ... I have wings ?!" Godric looked at his own wings, but found that they weren't as white as Amon's. While one wing shone in pure white, the other wing was clearly darker, almost grayish. "Apparently this represents my shame in the past ..." For a brief moment Godric tightened his lips, but didn't want to think about it any further. He had always believed he could escape this shame. Now that he saw that dark wing he knew he would never escape her. He looked away with lowered eyelids. “I ... I don't even know how to fly.

In the darkness before him, a figure slowly filtered into view. First, the wings: undersized and gossamer-thin. Then the body deepened in color just enough for Noah to see a small, pale angel sharing his Announcer. Noah did not know him. The angels features were soft and innocent-looking, like a babys. In the cramped tunnel, his fine blond hair blew across his silver eyes in the wind that Daniels wings sent back each time they pulsed. He looked so young, but of course, he was just as old as any of them.

”It will be pretty hard to grasp its concept unless you try it yourself. White feathers rained down upon them and the swamp shook upon the sudden gush of wind that enveloped them. Tilting her chin to meet his gaze, a sly grin plastered on her face. “Why do I have to try it when I can observe you instead?” Cent whispered as her enormous dragon-like wings stretched behind her before it angled to strike the smirking angel – aiming to wipe off his arrogant face from the face of the three worlds. Frosty swamp water spurted when the edges of her right wing hit the murky swamp floor instead of piercing Angelo like a shish-kebab.